Letters To You
by xxseemoreclearly
Summary: A sad(ish) story about distance in Natasha and Clint's partnership and romance. After only being partners for five days, Clint is called out on a deep undercover solo mission and the only communication they have is through letters. [References things from Thor and Ironman 2]
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, but my storyline.

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_"It took me 5 days to know you,_

_182 days to love you,_

_365 days to loose you,_

_and 730 days to miss you."_

They had only been partners for five days before Barton was sent on a deep solo mission. Natasha couldn't lie, she felt about uneasy being left alone at S.H.I.E.L.D. Clint had rescued her from the Red Room and protected her ever since; though she was more than capable of caring for herself she did share a profound emotional bond with him. He had been the first human to treat her like a human, not a chess piece to play with and manipulate, and she was grateful for that.

"How long?" Natasha tightened her jaw, feeling her stomach twist. She was standing at his door with her arms crossed hard against her chest, feeling slightly saddened at the sight of Clint packing his things. He was leaving today.

"I don't know, a year, maybe two." Clint raised his eyebrows and sighed, showing strong reluctance to leaving her as well. He hesitated as he placed each item in his bag.

"Damn it, don't do this to me Barton." It almost sounded like a threat, there was nothing needy in the way she said it, it was as if she thought he could just reject the mission.

"Shit Nat, you know I didn't choose to leave you, and I _can't_ just walk away from this." Clint swallowed, he felt his throat choking up and heat rise to his ears.

He leaned forward, placing both hands around her jawline as he roughly kissed her forehead. Natasha met his gentle blue eyes with her own intense green ones, his eyes were always something that stood out about him. He was average in looks compared to other men, but his eyes were always something completely different. The ocean was in his blue orbs, you could always see if the waves were calm or rough, his emotions were told through his eyes. She scrunched her eyebrows together, "That's not allow Barton." Her voice was slowing rising.

"I'm leaving for over a year, I'm sure they don't care about a kiss on the _forehead._" He chuckled at her loyalty to the policies. Clint felt his face loose expression, "So you're on your own...until I get back." An emptiness was felt in his stomach as he said those words, he didn't want her to be alone again, like before.

"Is this our goodbye Barton?" Natasha asked with a neutral expression, she didn't let it show that her chest was tightening with each word.

Clint look at her helplessly, his eyes desperately said 'don't do _this_ to me Nat', "No, this is 'see you later'" He corrected.

"Damn you're sappy..." She shook her head and laughed at her partner, "But i guess I'll see you later Barton."

"Hopefully sooner than later," Clint replied, "though, probably later."

"It's likely that's the way thing will turn out." Natasha said plainly.

"Why don't you get a new partner until I return?" He suggested, though he didn't like the idea of her partnering with another agent.

"I refuse." She said seriously. Clint was taken aback at the quickness of her response, he wondered how she could become so attached to him in such a short time, but then he thought of how quickly he did to her.

"You'll be able to write me." He said, trying to figure a solution to their predicament, "If you ever need to tell me anything then leave a letter in Coulson's office."

"What are we in the 1940's?" Natasha scoffed.

"Apparently so, but I'm not kidding, write me." Clint said slinging his bag around his shoulder, "Just no Dear John letters..." He snickered at his joke.

"That was horrible," Natasha said, yet still found herself smile.

"No," Clint said intently, then added, "It was _hilarious_."

"Shut up," She rolled her eyes at her stupid partner.

"Hell no." He said as her wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her out.

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**A/N:** Hey guys! This is just the prologue to the story, the rest is mainly going to be written as letters to and from Clint and Natasha, as a warning, this is going to be sad, and might not have a happy ending.


	2. Letter One

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my own storyline

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Barton,

Damn, I feel stupid right now, writing you a letter isn't exactly how I want to spend my time. But, if it means it'll reach you then I guess the boring shit is worth it. I still feel like a desperate long distance girlfriend to you though...shut up, I know you're making jokes about that, you idiot. I'm laughing at myself right now, now _I'm_ the idiot.

It's been a month Barton, so I assumed it was time to check in with you. You better not be getting yourself killed out there, from the rumors I've heard you're in it deep, be careful. Don't slip up, or _later_ will become _never, _and we both don't want that to happen. Don't write to me about your mission either, not any descriptions or people, nothing. You aren't stupid enough to actually tell me, but just to be safe.

You'd probably want to know how S.H.I.E.L.D is treating me Barton, and so you know, it's been good. Even without you, but don't take that the wrong way. Damn it you already did, didn't you? They've only been sending me on solo op's, by my request, funny story! My last op was wait. I forgot. That's classified. I can tell you one thing though, I'm on a mission right now. An assistant for some hotshot billionaire, Tony Stark. He's a douche. Fury on the other hand, is abiding to most of my requests, they all must think I'm some sort of bomb that could go off at any second. To be honest, without you I might actually be one. Surprisingly I've found myself lonelier without you, don't take it to heart though. None of this is your fault. Just hurry up and complete your damn mission, then get your ass back here.

-Nat

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**A/N: **Hey guys, sorry these 'chapters' are so short, but that's because they aren't really chapters, they're letters. And damn, I cannot freaking manage a letter that over 500 words. That's just ridiculous, but if you can, you have skills. And tell me how you do it. Really. lol


	3. Letter 2

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing

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Dear Nat, (aka, my long distance girlfriend.)

Have you little faith in me? I'll be safe alright, I'm not completely stupid. And I'm well trained goddamn it! Have you seen me shoot Nat? You know, besides when the target was your head? And that's when I beg for you not to trample my ass.

Moving along, S.H.I.E.L.D. better be treating you well, or Fury will have some serious shit to answer to, believe me. But they're sending you on op's, that's good, you'll learn more about the agency...Stark huh? Interesting, i've heard rumors about that playboy genius. He seems like a jerk... Oh, and, try not to temp him Nat, he's not a target to seduce. But you know what, just give the word, I can probably get an arrow clean through his neck from here. Not to be bragging or anything, but that takes skills, Nat.

Sorry to put a downer on your day, but you were right. I'm in some deep shit at the moment... I've been authorized to tell you a minimal amount of information, but the consequence of you leaking this would be death. Or worse. Nonetheless, keep your mouth shut. Here goes, this is stuff I've never seen before... Planets, and gods, and artifacts, things we never even knew existed. They just happened to dump shit on Earth and into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s authority. It's hard to even know what the hell's going on here. I don't think I can hurry, not on this one Nat. You take care of your playboy and I'll take care of...whatever this is.

By the way, you aren't a ticking bomb. You're a perfectly capable agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. now, actually more than capable. We're the best team in the agency, I just wish you didn't acquire the skills you have from...you know. Take care, I want a live partner when I return.

-Clint

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"Am I interrupting some sort of ritualistic, sentimental letter reading thingy?" Tony strutted into the room, and glancing over Natasha's shoulder as she folded the letter away.

"Of course not sir," She said airily and brushed her red locks behind her ear.

"What is it pen pal? Boyfriend? Husband?" Tony sat down next to her and folded his legs on the table top.

Natasha laughed genuinely, "I'm not involved in a relationship, it's a, uh, friend. A really good friend." She replied.

"Well get to work Natalie," Tony said as he jumped out of his chair, "Stark tower doesn't run it's self sweetheart." he winked at her on the way out.

Natasha made sure that he was gone before rolling her eyes and mentally cursing his hyperactive, nosy ways.

What he said made Natasha think, what was Barton to her? Just her partner? No, he was more than that, saying that they were just partners made their relationship seem as if there's not depth or meaning to it. It was hard to put her finger on it, the past years she hadn't really death with many feelings. Just targets and knowing the most efficient way to kill. But Barton wasn't her target or the crude men she worked for. He was, he was...what was he? The man who rescued her? No, she wasn't some damsel in distress, she was the black widow.

And how exactly did the black widow categorize the men in her life? He wasn't her pen pal, or husband, or boyfriend. A flush raised to her cheeks, the thought of Barton being her boyfriend had her all flustered now, damn it. Natasha froze, the feelings she felt were twisting in her stomach. There was no way...but it couldn't, SHE couldn't...like him could she? She had never felt actual feelings towards men that weren't negative. It was all so strange, liking a man, wanting to be with a man. There was just something about him, how he was insufferably irritating and sometimes idiotic...and how is eyes glowed when he looks at her. Natasha shook her head of curls, "time to get back to work Natalie."

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**A/N: **Letters weren't enough to keep the story lively for me, what do you think of some adding dialogue into it? the main focus will still be letters, but this will keep it moving along better. Anywayssss, enjoy, and keep reading/reviewing :)


	4. Letter 3

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters or storyline from Marvel

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Barton,

Why the hell did it take so long to reply? It's been two months! If you're too stupid to tell, I'm upset. Oh, and, _I'm not your fucking girlfriend Barton!_ Don't make me hack a classified file just to find your location and whip your sorry ass into shape, because you know I will. Sorry that was so harsh, don't think that I don't miss you, because I actually do. A lot. Take that however you want Barton, just know that our relationship can't be compromised.

Stark is a dick as usual, sad, I'm almost accustomed to being ordered around by him. I actually feel like a normal office worker, except normal office workers don't carry a gun shoved down their skirts. And about the seducing thing, trust me, that's the last thing I want to do to that man. I swear, I'm going to decapitate his head from his gross body when this op is over with. Damn, if I have to work with him again… I will not be the one taking orders. Or picking up freaking dry-cleaning... About what you're doing though, sounds rough, worse than a regular mission. Well, it probably isn't a regular mission. You don't know what to expect, what you have to face, or how you're going to battle it. I say 'battle' because I realize that some op's are for intel, not just slaughtering the enemy. Which is still a concept I'm trying to grasp… Just keep it under control over there, wherever you are.

Barton…I've got a question. As you know, I'm not usually up for, human conversation, or company…but I need to ask something. When you get these feelings, feelings like your stomach tightening and your heart beating fast, and when your hands get sweaty when you think about someone. What does it mean? Damn, just know I'm coming to you because there's no one for me to go to, but ever since meeting this…person…these things have been happening. And if it's possible, how do I get them to stop, for the love of god?

Sorry for making things strange, I mean stranger than our relationship is now… Wow, we should possibly be concerned. Do not take this as some sort of weird compliment or anything, but I sort of… hacked your file and stole a picture of you. Barton, you have one chance to clear out all the perverted thoughts that just entered your mind, because if you don't, I'll know. And you've seen me shoot. I do, in fact, have an explanation on why I did that, A. I'm an amazing hacker and B. I was starting to forget your face. I didn't want that to happen, I mean, it's been 2 damn months and it's not like a had time to memorize your face. I won't forget it, even if that means carrying around some sappy, crap picture of your unphotogenic face. Same goes for you. You can't let my face disappear from your memory.

-Nat.

* * *

"Hey, Hawk! Get out of your nest, we need you down here." Phil shouted at him, but when Clint reached for his bow Phil shook his head.

"Then what the hell do you need me for?" Clint growled leaning over the metal bars, showing Coulson his annoyed face.

"We need your eyes, not your bow on this one Legolas." He responded, unmoved by his usual mood swings.

"Ha! Never heard that one before, but I give you an A for effort." Clint laughed, sarcasm spilling from his words.

"Why are you so upset?" Phil raised a suspecting eyebrow.

"My problems are my own, Coulson." He breathed as he climbed down the ladder.

"Agent Barton," Phil commanded him to stop as he walked ahead of him.

Clint swung around, waiting for Phil's chiding, he crossed his arms. "Yeah?"

"You know very well that your problems are S.H.I.E.L.D.'s problems," He explained, "If somethings wrong, then you read us in!" His voice boomed with his last sentence.

"I'm aware." Clint said through his teeth, "partner problems, that's all."

"Would you like to be reassigned, I can put in a request-"

"God no!" Clint said exasperated, "I don't need-_want_ a new partner!"

"Then what's the problem, Clint?" Phil asked, clearly trying to pry it out of him.

"The problem is Natasha likes another man!" Clint exploded, his hands were balled into fists as he narrowed his eyes at Phil, "That's the problem."

There was no doubt that Clint was pissed, not at Natasha, just at the fact that she _liked some guy and didn't even know it_. If it was Stark he might as well murder he bastard. He shouldn't have even told Coulson about his fit of jealousy, he knew policy, he knew their partnership could be severed. But, damn it, she was _his_ partner, she shouldn't be off in the field falling in love.

Phil shook his head, "Non-platonic relationships are prohibited in S.H.I.E.L.D."

Clint's eyes widened, "I-I don't…" he stammered.

"But," Phil said sharply, "If I were to somehow, _overlook, _this incident, I would consider being discreet in the future." He said suggestively, Clint smiled, "Understood, sir."

"You can write back later," Phil said as he led Clint into a plastic draped room, "We need you here."

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**A/N:** I'm having fast updates... AHhhhhhhhHHHhhh, omg, Clintahsa is my OTP. Tell me if there's anything you particularly like or don't like or want to see. I'll consider much of suggestions. And I love any kind of constructive, or just feedback in general! Hope you enjoyed :)


	5. Letters 4, 5, 6

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing!

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Dear Nat,

What do you look like again? Brown eyes? Blonde? Female right? …I'm just screwing with you Nat. I won't forget your face. Your damn, cute face. Don't you dare say there's nothing cute about an established, slightly cruel assassin. There are two sides to every coin. Just because you know how to kill me 40 different ways with just a ball-point pen doesn't mean you can't be incredibly cute sometimes.

I'm flattered by your whole picture bit, really. And unphotogenic my ass! Have you seen this radiant face? Oh, that's right you probably have it framed somewhere. It's beautiful as the sun itself, and I'm not being narcissistic when it's true. Okay, okay, I'm shutting the hell up.

Getting to those feeling you were talking about…it's called attraction Natasha, you know when you like someone. This sounds so elementary, but those are classic symptoms of a crush. Shit, Nat, who is this bastard? Tell me now. I need to know who my next target is…I'm kidding of course, but really. Who the hell is he?

I miss you.

-Clint

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Barton,

Don't be a bitch. And don't call me cute, there's nothing cute about me. You don't even know me that well Barton, I don't care if we've been stupid 'pen pals' for almost six months, we only were assigned as partners for five days. Learn about my lifetime of killing and then get back to me on if it's cute. Two sides to a coin, please.

If you're wondering, I completed the Stark mission. I never thought a grown man could be so childish, more so than you. Hopefully we never meet again, even though he's now well acquainted with S.H.I.E.L.D. Trust me, if you ever meet him Barton you'll understand my urges to kill him.

A crush you say? That is elementary, and you're an idiot. You can't kill him, he's a great marksman. Maybe even the best.

I miss you too.

-Nat

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Dear Nat,

Wait. Nat. You can't mean, me… If you mean me, damn it…Nat.

Why…how could you be so careless? Carrying feelings for me?

-Clint

* * *

Clint couldn't believe it. It was so bluntly obvious, a _great marksman_? That could only mean him. What other archers did she know? He gripped the letter firmly in his hand, and clenched is jaw furiously. If she loved him their partnership would be over before it even started. What was worse it it made him happy, he was ecstatic. But as much as it made his heart jump it also caused him deep hurt, for himself and her. He was broken, humpty-dumpty can't be put together again…and again, and again.

He shook his head, this was probably the first time feeling this towards a man for Natasha. She really knows how to pick 'em.

"Agent Barton," Phil said, "I have an assignment for you, now that this is over."

"Yeah what is it?" Clint asked, snapping out of his world of emotions.

"We need you to watch over Thor, we're taking extra precautions with him. We just need you to be sure that he's properly adjusted here on Earth." Phil explained.

"Okay, for how long?" Clint shrugged, there wasn't much of a choice for him.

"Around a year, probably more." Phil said regretfully.

"There are of course conditions, you have to be completely undercover, he or the woman can't know you're watching them."

Clint nodded. "I feel like there's a bigger catch to this." He said skeptically.

"You can't have any contact with anyone during the mission…" Phil sighed, "That includes Agent Romanoff."

Clint felt his heart sink, "What?" He felt himself gasp for air. "What the hell Coulson?" He demanded coldly.

"I'm sorry, there will be no one there alongside you, therefore no one to be your carrier pigeon and you can't reveal your location." Phil tried to reason with him.

"Fuck you." Clint said, his words stabbing into the air. "I decline."

"There is no, 'I decline' on this one. You don't have a _choice_." Phil stomped on Clint's words.

"Why me then?" Clint asked, "Why am I your only choice?"

Phil sighed, "You're the only one available with the high enough clearance, and you're already acquainted with Thor."

"It seemed like a good choice." Phil tired to calm Clint from his rampage.

"Shut up."

"Hey!" Phil gripped Clint's shoulder, "I'm covering for you and Agent Romanoff, I would think you could treat me better." He threatened.

"Yes, sir." Clint said sarcastically and removed his hand.

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**A/N:** Been a while. ish. As always enjoy and review yo


	6. Letters 7 and 8

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Marvel's

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Barton,

Don't get conceded, there's protocol you ass. You know, the thing that could get us banned from working missions together, and you sure as hell know we'd have no free time to see each other if we were. After that, there'd be no fixing this. I don't know how or why, or that I could even feel these things, but somehow it's you. _You little shit._ Don't make me explain myself Barton, because I don't have an explanation for all this. Things like this don't happen to me, I was programed for them not to. Don't ask me how you changed me, or how you broke my 'programing' or whatever, because _I don't know_. Just know it's you. You could ignore my feelings for all I care, just don't get our partnership terminated.

-Nat

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Barton,

I know I probably scared you shitless, but it's been three months Barton. Where the hell are you? When you get your senses back send me a damn update.

I, for one, have been on a lot more missions recently, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s demand has been high. Sadly, they're mostly intel op's, but it's a good break from my twenty (plus) years of killing. Thinking back, I wasn't even given a reason for killing the people I was sent to kill, I just knew if I didn't I would be destroyed, or worse. I'll stop with the sentimental crap, even though it's not what you would normally describe as sentimental.

If you don't want to 'hurt' me, then think again. I'm an assassin from the Red Room damn it. You can't break me. Don't feel guilty about anything Barton. Just reject me, and we'll go back to normal. Like old times… if you can even call those five days and the letter we send each other 'old times.'

Don't be a bitch, Barton.

-Nat

* * *

"Agent Romanoff, you have a flight to catch." Phil was waiting by her quarter's door.

"Who told you to be so bossy?" Natasha was focusing on folding her letter to Clint.

"As your handler, bossy is my job." Phil shrugged his shoulders, the sides of his suit wrinkling up.

"Right," Natasha raised her eyebrows, she pulled on a fitted black jacket on her way out. She stopped in front of Phil, "get this to Barton will you?"

Like all the times she spoke those words to him he lied back through his teeth, "I'll be sure of it."

Natasha nodded to Phil on her way out.

"Hey, uh, have you heard about the mission he's on now?"

"Not a word." Phil frowned and shook his head.

Clint must just be avoiding her, and he was doing a hell of a job.

Phil Coulson shook his head, she just wasn't authorized for that information. Lying was the nice thing to do, the _only_ thing to do. He was afraid that she could smell the lies on him, but she must have let her guard down around him. He, in fact, was the only person Natasha trusted besides Clint. Phil frowned to himself, and now he betrayed her trust. But he couldn't just spew out the truth either. His frown settled further into his face, it was like he was caught in between his job and his morality. Choosing either one would have dire consequences, but he choose the decent thing to do and lied to her. He deemed it decent because Natasha wouldn't hurt as much, she wouldn't eagerly count down the days until he came back mentally, she wouldn't constantly worry, or worse case scenario, she wouldn't hunt him down. He wouldn't always be on her mind. So yes, it was decent enough.

"Coulson," As Natasha whipped around, curls of her fiery mane flew into her face, "Thank you." she said uncomfortably, as if she hadn't muttered the words in ages, or likely, _ever_.

Phil simply nodded to her.

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**A/N: ** hey guys, this is coming to an end soon! But I will be having a sequel that begins with them on shield missions but slowly works it's way into Avengers. It should be fun but less letter-y. As always enjoy, keep reading, and review. I hope you choose to follow my next story about them :)


	7. Letters 9, 10, 11 and 12

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Marvel's

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Barton,

I'm just hoping that you're actually reading these on your side of the Earth. It'll be a year since we've seen each other soon. I'd really just like it to end, though I can't get optimistic, it's probably not going to be anytime soon…I suppose that's okay too, as long as I'll see you again. I mean what's a couple of years compared to the hell of a hundred years we have?

I just miss you, that's all. I miss you so damn much. I'm sick of going on solo missions, I'm just sick of it! I want you here with me, to make stupid jokes and get some of the tension that comes with op's off my back. I just feel like someone should be beside me in the crappy motel rooms they put us up in or have someone talking into my ear bud or have someone be my back up, and I want it to be you Barton.

-Nat

* * *

Barton,

A year and two months.

Sometimes I just think of your eyes. I've never said anything to you about this, but when I first saw you, even when I was your target, your eyes have always fascinated me. I hate to get all sappy on you, I really hate to get sappy on _myself,_ but I've really taken a fondness to them. Fuck, I'm turning into you Barton. A mushy, hopeless romantic who's more broken than a shattered glass. I can't seem to help it though, they're _blue_. Not just blue, they're like two jewels instead of eyes. Wow, I'm re-reading that…and I hate myself. I really am turning into you. Did I come into contact with some sort of weird Barton disease? Because that was _not_ in your file. That was rhetorical, I know you won't answer this letter either.

Come back with a cure.

-Nat

* * *

Barton,

A year and a half.

It's likely useless even writing to you anymore, seeing you've managed nearly a year without replying. Weird thing to tell you, but I cut my hair short. I mean, _short_, for me at least. Not that you give a damn about me anymore. It better be completely hell out there, or I'm going to kick your ass. You make me anxious this past year with no communication.

I've even been doing silly things, I dream about you. I day-dream about you too. The dreams are usually nightmares, but the day-dreams seem to make up for it. I dream that you get injured and die. I day-dream that you get injured too, but then that would be your excuse for ceasing communication. It's stupid, I know. It's needy, I know. It's pathetic, I know.

You, for one, are a class-A bastard.

-Nat

* * *

Natasha gripped her hair, tugging at it's roots. She hunched over her metal dresser and looked up to the mirror that was propped against the wall, Natasha scowled. She saw someone who was _tired_. Tired of all this shit, she was tired of waiting, she was tired of being alone in the field. It was all said through her bright green eyes, they showed signs to insomnia, sadness, excessive amounts of tears and frustration. Natasha combed her fingers through her hair and stormed out of her quarters, slamming the door shut loudly behind her.

"Coulson," She said, finding herself at his office.

"I have a request…" She continued.

Coulson's eyes widened as he listened to her, then he sighed, "I should have expected this to happen sooner or later…" He said crinkling his eyebrows together, feeling sorry for her.

* * *

Barton,

Last month I filed for a new partner. I'm sorry, it was just too hard. _You_ we too hard. I couldn't find a reason to _not_ do this. It's a smart choice, it may not be the right one…but I guess I'll just have to find out. I should have a new partner in a few months. I guess we really were over before it began, I'm really sorry Barton.

I love you.

I've never said that before. Especially not to a class-A bastard.

-Nat

* * *

**A/N:** I have no idea why this makes me so sad. It isn't the most angsty story, It's just a story about distance... but it makes me sad. mehhhh. Same as always guys. You know the drill. Enjoy. Keep reading. Please read dat sequel. And review, yo.


	8. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters or their storyline!

* * *

Natasha placed the point of the pencil onto the paper. She looked down to the clean smooth surface. It's blank whiteness was calling to be written upon. She bit her lips, something was off, she just couldn't find anything she wanted to say to Clint. Natasha tightened her grip on the pencil, applying more and more pressure until the point snapped. She threw the pencil down in frustration and balled up the blank paper.

She was giving up. Clint wasn't responding and there wasn't a thing in hell she could do about it. She was trying to move on, to accept the fact that Natasha Romanoff, The Black Widow...had lost. She sighed, the end game was the same with all the men she had met; though most of them were targets. The story always ended with and 'and she lived coldly, aloofly ever after'. Then the story would repeat. With her new partner as well, Agent Colt, who was a to-the-point serious kind of guy. He had black hair clean cut hair and dark, unwelcoming eyes. A large change from the warm Clint Barton she had worked with previously, but Agent Colt served his purpose.

Not very well though, the truth was he annoyed the fuck out of her, and she had no idea why. Maybe it was his oddly distant personality, or just the fact that he wasn't Clint. And he never would be.

"Agent Romanoff, we're going to be late." Agent Colt peaked his expressionless face into her quarters.

"Yeah, I'm coming." She said plainly and followed him into the busy hallway, she had just taken two steps when she saw Phil Coulson approaching her, "Damn it Coulson, I don't feel like chatting about how I'm adjusting to my new crap of a partner." She gritted her teeth together.

"No offense," Natasha glanced at her undisturbed partner, he didn't even blink at her rude comment.

"No I just-" Phil started, then gave up as he saw Natasha widen her stride to escape him.

"I'll tell you later then." He sighed and returned to his office.

"You don't trust me." Agent Colt said to her, without a single change in his voice or position. Natasha thought upon the question, "I don't trust anyone." She replied truthfully.

"You're other partner then, Agent Barton. What about him?" He asked with still no stir in his appearance.

"He's different." She inhaled deeply, her too, not allowing her emotions to flow through her response.

"Then you just distrust him less?"

"In a way." She replied, "Now shut the hell up."

* * *

Clint sat alone, tapping his fingers on his thigh as he stared at the blank wall cross from him. The planes loud low squealing noises banged in his head, "Agent Barton," The pilot called back to him, "Agent Coulson left a box for you back there." Clint peered around for this so-called package, his eyes landed upon an average sized cardboard box.

Clint didn't reply to the man, he just unbuckled his safety belts and gabbed the package, ripping it open as he sat back down. Folded up paper scattered on his lap, the look of the paper seemed familiar; the color and texture, even the fold of it he recognized. _Natasha_, he frantically thought.

Clint closed his eyes and shuddered a deep, heart wrenching sigh. His hands shook as he unfolded each letter, placing them in order.

The closest thing he could describe the pain from reading the letters was a knife, twisting into the pit of his stomach and leaving it there to hurt even more.

Clint needed to see Natasha, he needed to see her as soon as the damn plane landed.

* * *

"I'm sorry Agent Barton she's not here, she's on a mission with-" Clint shoved her last letter in Phil's face, "Yeah, I fucking know. With some agent _you_ assigned her." He shouted, red creeping up to his neck.

"I didn't assign Agent Colt to her, S.H.I.E.L.D. did." Phil said calmly.

"Okay, fine. But answer me this, why did you let her believe these letters were being sent?" He angrily tossed the letters at him, "You let her suffer." He snarled and stormed out.

* * *

**A/N: **The end is nearrrrrr, hahah. It's okay though, the end isn't really near. These two have a loooong road ahead of them. Though I warn you, this fic is kind of different from the one I'm writing as a sequel. It will be more you know, action-still with romance- and less letters hahahah! Enjoy this and look forward to the last chapter! :)


	9. Chapter 3 End

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing!

* * *

"Agnet Barton, there's someone you need to see." Phil said, urging Clint to follow him out into the hall. He briskly walked as he led him to a station letting people off the S.H.I.E.L.D. issued plane. "Why the hell-" Clint began to complain, but then saw what he had been dragged down there for. Natasha Romanoff. Clint stepped closer to Natasha, her back was to him as she seemed to be scolding her dark haired partner. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder which caused her to swing around, her severe facial expression softened into something much more _surprised._ Their gaze was uninterrupted as they seemed to communicate without words.

"I've been waiting a while." Clint found a smile sliding across his face.

"_I've_ been waiting a while." Natasha swallowed, shocked at who was standing before her.

"Two years..." Clint sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He looked up and examined her face and body, nothing had changed. She was as stunning and harsh looking as ever, the only thing that changed was her hair. What used to be a lengthy waterfall of red was now short messy curls, falling just above her shoulders.

"Who's he?" Clint nodded towards the dark haired agent beside her.

"My partner... Agent Colt" Natasha tightened her lips, her arms raising to cross against her chest. She could sense the waves of disapproval radiating off him.

"My new partner." She corrected.

"No. Get rid of him." He said firmly.

"You abandoned her," Agent Colt said, but was dismissed by Natasha.

"Leave," she said, "We need to be alone."

"I'll be filing to terminate this partnership later." Natasha said to Colt, he heard her, but didn't acknowledge her statement.

"Your communicating has been shit for the past year. What the hell happened?" Her tone wasn't angry, it was firm and unthreatening.

"Coulson didn't send your letters. I didn't read them until my flight back, I didn't even know you wrote..." Clint said with sad blue eyes. "I'm sorry Nat. I'm so sorry."

"I just didn't know..." He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.

Natasha soaked in the words, but easily found herself saying "Well, lets hear your damn update then."

Clint was taken aback, then he smirked at the forwardness of her question. "I'm off my mission for one, and all in one piece. It was hell. And I'm fucking pissed off that you're teamed up with some random 'Agent Colt' douche."

Some agents wandering the halls turned to Clint at his foul language. "What, never heard the word 'fuck' before?" Clint turned to them irritably.

Natasha dragged him into her living quarters.

"He's not a bad agent." She argued for Colt's sake, she couldn't even believe they were fighting about the agent she was with. He was gone, for two years. It was only natural to move on.

"I don't care, get rid of him. You're _my_ partner. No matter what a stupid file says." He said, acting like a child who didn't want to share their new toy.

Natasha couldn't deny that she craved to dump Agent Colt for Clint, "I _am_, I'm dumping his ass, _soon..._assuming that Coulson can't run very fast." She _might_ have promised him no change in partners for a year, but an arrangement could be discussed.

"Good." He said, "I'm selfish."

"You're an idiot." She replied, the sides of her lips curving up.

"I thought I was a 'class-A bastard'." Clint corrected, referencing her letters.

"That too." She raised an eyebrow.

"Natasha." Clint said with need in his eyes, he leaned forward and brushed her hair away from her ear.

"I love you." He whispered.

The words were soft and easy, they were the sweetest flowing words that had ever made their way into her ear. They were so honest, nothing about them was held back or fabricated. It was like him saying that the sky is blue or the grass is green. Natasha parted her lips and felt her body go numb.

"I was afraid you forgot about me." She chuckled at the thought.

"You aren't that easy to forget." Clint said then brought their lips together, holding her mess of curls in his hand and pressing their bodies against each other.

"Screw policy." He said then kissed her once more.

* * *

**A/N: **End.

:D I hope you are satisfied, well even if you're not no worries. I'll _always_ be writing about Clint and Natasha, they're so damn cute.

Review and hope you enjoyed!


	10. Just to let you know

If you would like to read the sequel, please look for it under the title "Failure to Troubleshoot" and it should be there. I just published the first chapter, hope you enjoy!


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